Sea Chanties
by Budding Authoress
Summary: Three very random songfics about our favorite lieutenants. All songs are by Depeche Mode. Be warned  the men might not come off looking their best...
1. Dream On

Sea Chanties

A/N: Ever notice that Hornblower doesn't seem to have too many songfics? (Probably because Horatio's tone deaf…) Anyway, I'm trying to rectify that. All of these are extremely silly, and none of our heroes is safe. If you don't know the songs, that's ok, but it probably won't be as fun. All 3 songs are from Depeche Mode. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I own no one you recognize from Hornblower, and I don't own any of the songs.

Dream On

A/N: I know some of these lyrics are wrong; I changed them on purpose because the way I hear the song works better for this story. Go find the real ones online if you're interested.

Summary: A hallucinating Horatio, just out of the prison pit, has a very strange night…

"Get some rest, Horatio," He heard Archie say above him, "The pit's a hell on earth. Bedrest is what you really need."

Horatio groaned in response. What else could he do? His vocal cords were shot. He heard Archie and Hunter climbing into their bunks as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb him. He wanted to rest, more than anything. Just lie there and breathe quietly…

Then he heard a guitar. His eyes flickered open. Through the swirling haze of colors, he saw a young woman at the foot of his bed, strumming the instrument. "How the hell…?" he rasped. She smiled at him and kept strumming. In a light alto voice, she began crooning.

"As your bony fingers close around me

Long and spindly

Death becomes me

Heaven, can you see what I see?"

She looked at him, smiling affectionately. She reached out and touched his face.

"Hey, you pale and sickly child

You're death and living reconciled

Been walking on a crooked mile"

He winced at the touch of her hand on his burned face. She slid across so she could sit next to him.

"Pain tends to command

Your body for a living

What you take won't kill you

But careful what you give in…"

She was strumming the guitar again. Horatio could sort of make her out now. She was fairly pretty, with long dark hair and pale eyes. She smiled and sang.

"Can you feel a little love?

Can you feel a little love?

Dream on, dream on…"

Horatio finally understood. He was hallucinating. He reached out a hand and feebly made 'Shoo' motions. "Leave me in peace." He muttered. She ignored him.

"There's no time for hesitating

Pain is ready, pain is waiting

Primed to do it's educating…

Unwanted, uninvited kin

It creeps beneath your crawling skin

It lives without, it lives within you…"

She suddenly leaned back and sprawled across his body. He yelped. She dropped the guitar (which was still playing on its own) and started running her hands across his chest, a seductive smile on her face.

"Feel the fever coming

You're shaking and twitching

You can scratch all over

But that won't stop you itching…"

He wasn't itching, but he certainly felt a different sensation…below his waist. "Miss…"

She purred (really) and started sliding the dress off her body. "Can you feel a little love?

Can you feel a little love?

Dream on, dream on…"

She was now standing in front of him, starkers. Horatio turned pale. He turned paler when she started toying with his pants. "MISS!" he cried, as loud as he could. She just arched an eyebrow and continued her work. He tried to jerk away, but was too weak. She climbed back on top of him and caressed his face.

Horatio had absolutely no control of what happened for the next hour. She was in charge, the whole way. Finally, she slid off him and started putting her dress back on. After such a long period of silence (except the guitar) she started to sing again.

"Blame it on your karmic curse

Or shame upon the universe

It knows its lines

It's well rehearsed."

She pointed; Horatio saw the pit, even though he was nowhere near the window.

"It sucked you in, it dragged you down

To where there is no hallowed ground

Where holiness is never found…"

She cupped his chin in her hand. "Pain tends to command

Your body for a living

What you take won't kill you

But careful what you give in…"

She kissed him quickly. "Can you feel a little love?

Can you feel a little love?"

She stroked his hair out of his face. "Dream on, dream on…"Horatio was completely bewildered, but he felt exhaustion slowly stealing over him. She picked up her guitar and started strumming it again. "Can you feel a little love?

Can you feel a little love?"

She winked and walked right through the wall. Her voice echoed softly as he fell asleep.

"Dream on, dream on…

Dream on, dream on…"

"Horatio!"

He woke up to Archie shaking him. "Are you all right? We heard you moaning all night!"

Horatio nodded. "Archie…after you went in the pit…did you hallucinate?"

Archie was a bit confused by the question. "Erm…yes, I did. But it was mainly swirls and colors, snatches of my past, that sort of thing."

"There was no woman with a guitar?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Horatio muttered, "I was delirious. That's all."

"Feeling better now?"

"I…yes. Thank you, Archie."

Archie smiled. "Good. I'll get you something to drink. You must be parched." As he moved away, he paused and glanced back. "Please tell me how you managed to get your pants down without me noticing. I was keeping an eye on you all night. I look away for one second, and suddenly…" he shrugged. "Ah, well, maybe I dreamed that whole thing."

As Archie moved away, Horatio reflected that he was probably the first person in the world who had gotten laid by a hallucination.


	2. Master and Servant

Master and Servant

Sum: On a spy mission to France, Horatio, Bush and Archie run into more than they bargained for…

"You're the one who reads French, Horatio!" Archie said, looking around nervously, "Where the hell are we?"

Horatio squinted at the street sign. "_Rue de Liberté_. Our informant said a lot of the French Naval officers congregate in this area after dark."

Bush looked unconvinced. "You do realize, gentlemen, that if we are caught, we will be killed as spies."

"Hey, you think _I_ applied for the job?" Archie shot back, "They wanted three people they could depend on, and for some strange reason, they picked the three of us!"

"Even though only one of us speaks any decent French?"

"Don't ask _me_ why they did it!"

"Will the two of you shut up!" Horatio snapped, "I see a group of men coming!"

The three of them leaned against the wall, acting nonchalant. Horatio spoke calmly in French about the weather, as the men, all wearing naval uniforms, passed by. As soon as they were several paces away, our heroes surreptitiously followed them, keeping to the shadows.

The officers, talking quietly amongst themselves, looked around and went into a small building. Horatio looked at the sign. "_Les Femmes des Champs. _The women of the fields?"

Bush shrugged. "A pub, I suspect. Come, let's go in."

They entered the tavern (for that's what it was) and took a seat just behind the officers they had tailed. All the officers were looking expectantly forward, at a large empty space beside the bar. They weren't saying anything.

"What now?" Archie mouthed.

Horatio looked grim. "We wait."

They didn't have long to wait. Suddenly a group of men appeared out of nowhere with instruments and started to play them. The officers perked up. Horatio held up a hand and listened intently. He heard voices, soft but getting louder.

"_C'est beaucoup…_

_C'est beaucoup…_

_C'est beaucoup…_

_C'est beaucoup comme vie!"_

"What the hell…?" Horatio whispered. Then his mouth dropped open. The other two soon followed suit.

Five very scantily clad women had just appeared in the empty space. What clothes they _were_ wearing were black and tight-fitting. Some of them were wearing masks. One of them had a whip.

Archie tugged Horatio's sleeve. "Isn't that leather?"

Horatio couldn't speak. What the devil were these women doing? And how could they be so calm about wearing such scandalous clothing. The women were singing now, dancing seductively. Though the words were in French, Horatio translated in his head…and was even more scandalized than before.

"There's a new game

We like to play, you see

A game with added reality

You treat me like a dog

Get me down on my knees

We call it master and servant

We call it master and servant."

One of the girls got down on her knees. The one with the whip put a foot on the kneeling girl's back and cracked her weapon. The girl yelped, but not in pain. The other girls were still singing.

"It's a lot like life

This play between the sheets

With you on top and me underneath

Forget all about equality;

Let's play master and servant

Let's play master and servant."

The French officers they'd been tailing now were openly drooling at the girls. The one with the whip approached, coolly, surveying the patrons. She tapped two of the officers on the shoulder, then stood before Bush and beckoned with a finger. Bush shot a scared look at the other two. Archie gave a "Don't look at me!" expression. Horatio was more sympathetic, but what could he do? Bush finally allowed himself to be dragged onto the 'stage', as the girls started swaying, crooning;

"It's a lot like life

And that's what's appealing

If you despise that throwaway feeling

From disposable fun

Then this is the one…"

One of the officers was hit with the whip. He groaned in pleasure. Meanwhile, one of the other girls had taken Bush's hair and yanked his head back, singing right into his face.

"Domination's the name of the game

In bed or in life

They're both just the same

Except in one you're fulfilled

At the end of the day…

Let's play master and servant

Let's play master and servant."

The second officer took the whip in the chest. He looked perfectly delighted by this. Horatio turned to Archie. "What sort of bloody perversion are the Frogs into?"

It got worse. The two officers were sent back to their chairs. But now all the girls were surrounding Bush, who was standing there with a 'Help me!' look. They slowly started taking off his jacket, then his shirt. Finally, he stood there bare-chested. They were chanting "_C'est beaucoup comme vie_!" again. Horatio had a very bad feeling about this. The women were now running their hands over Bush's body. Horatio heard Archie groan. "Why didn't they pick _m__e?"_

"It's a lot like life

And that's what's appealing

If you despise that throwaway feeling

From disposable fun

Then this is the one…"

The one with the whip got behind Bush. Both Bush and Horatio closed their eyes and winced. The _crack_ resounded throughout the air, immediately followed by a yelp of pain. Horatio peeked, and saw the woman now digging their nails into Bush's shoulders and stomach, repeating, over and over again, "Let's play master and servant,

Come on, master and servant."

Finally, the one with the whip slapped Bush's rear. "_Allez."_ Even a non-French speaker could figure out that Bush had been allowed to go. He grabbed his clothes and ran back to the table, pouring sweat and bug-eyed with fear. "Please tell me we've done enough work!"

Horatio nodded. "We'll find our informer and get the hell out of France."

Archie winced at the crimson streak across Bush's back. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll heal." Bush grit his teeth as he got his shirt back on.

Horatio led the way out of the tavern. "Horatio, what are we going to tell the Admiralty? We didn't learn anything!"

Bush gave a rueful grin. "I think we did. The French are a bunch of perverts. If they want to capture one, just hang around outside seedy places like _that_!"

Horatio nodded his agreement. "It was not worth an extra twenty guineas for this job."

"Speak for yourself…" Archie said, dreamily, remembering just how much the women bounced around the stage.

He promptly received a noogie from Bush and a nudge in the ribs from Horatio for his horniness.

P.S. The French translates to "It's a lot like life", which can be heard (in English) just before the song begins properly.


	3. People are People

People are People

Sum: Archie should never get drunk and philosophical…

Horatio, Archie, and Bush were all in a bar. That sounds like a setup for a really bad joke, but the truth was, it was rather boring. Bush had a pint or two, then stopped. Horatio, never one for alcohol, was sort of the designated driver; if the other two got plastered, he'd be the one to lead them back to the ship.

And judging by Archie's alcohol consumption, Horatio had his work cut out for him. Archie had downed about three pints in ten minutes. Horatio supposed Archie had a right to be celebrating; He'd just returned from commanding a prize ship, and had added 500 pounds to his pockets. But why one would celebrate by getting bombed was beyond Horatio's comprehension. Bush was also watching with morbid fascination. "A pound says he throws up after the fifth."

"No bet." Horatio responded, "I refuse to gamble on human tragedy…or stupidity."

Bush's lip twitched at that. Archie toasted his success, then downed his fourth drink. Horatio shook his head. "Archie, have you heard of the term 'moderation?'"

Archie was lost in his own little world. "Horatio, why do you think we're fighting the French?"

Horatio was taken aback. "You know why, Archie. They ruined the monarchy. We have to stop them before the idea spreads to our country. Do you want our king murdered?"

"I suppose not." Archie was swaying now as he ordered his fifth drink, "But really, we shouldn't fight them. We have so much in common."

"Ok, Archie, you really are drunk." Horatio said, "We have nothing in common with them. We're more polite, for a start."

"But Horatio…" And to Horatio's (and Bush's) amazement, Archie launched into a rather surreal song.

"People are people, so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?

People are people, so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?"

He took a swallow from the tankard. Horatio shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?" Archie shrugged and started talking to a coatrack.

"So we're different colours

And we're different creeds

And different people have different needs

It's obvious you hate me

Though I've done nothing wrong

I never even met you

So what could I have done?"

"Archie, that's a coatrack. There are no Frogs in this tavern."

At the sound of his voice, Archie turned back to Horatio, looking genuinely confused.

"I can't understand

What makes a man

Hate another man

Help me understand."

"That's one of the mysteries of the ages, isn't it?" Horatio said, trying to drag Archie off the stool, "You've had enough."

Archie stood up, paid for his drinks, finished his last tankard, and promptly slumped to the floor again, still singing his heart out.

"People are people so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?

People are people, so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?

Help me understand…"

He heaved himself up, sagged against the stool, and threw up ("Damn!" Horatio heard Bush mutter, "I would have won a pound!") Horatio dragged Archie towards the door. "Come on, Archie. Time to sleep it off."

Archie collapsed against Horatio. "You're mean."

Horatio grew exasperated. "No, I'm just trying to save you from embarrassing yourself!"

Archie was singing again. Passerby were staring at the three of them (Bush was lending a hand by this point). "Archie, SHUT UP!" Horatio yelled. Archie glanced at him.

"Now you're punching and you're kicking

And you're shouting at me

I'm relying on your common decency

So far it hasn't surfaced

But I'm sure it exists

It just takes a while to travel

From your head to your fist."

Horatio lost all patience and dropped Archie unceremoniously on the ground. "For God's sake, man, remember your dignity!" But Archie was out of it, still singing lustily away.

"I can't understand

What makes a man

Hate another man

Help me understand

People are people so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?

People are people, so why should it be

You and I should get along so awfully?"

Bush had disappeared. Horatio glanced into a nearby alleyway and found his other friend doubled over with silent shakes of laughter. "I'm sorry," he said, when Horatio glared at him, "But you have to admit, this is something Archie will never, ever be able to live down!"

Horatio rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get him to the ship before he walks into the ocean."

They dragged him back to the ship, Archie just repeating, "I can't understand what makes a man hate another man help me understand" over and over again. Horatio said a silent prayer of thanks that Captain Sawyer hadn't found them like this; Archie would have died on the spot.

The next morning, our heroes were pretending nothing had happened last night. Archie had a harder time of that, considering that he had the mother of all hangovers. He also didn't understand why Bush told him that he could hang his coat on the next available Frog.


End file.
